Mystery is what happens to us when we
allow life to evolve rather than having to
make it happen all the time...There is
something holy-making about simply
presuming that what happens to us in
any given day is sent to awaken our souls
to something new: another smell, a
different taste, a moment when we allow
ourselves to lock eyes with a stranger, to
smile a bit, to nod our heads in
greeting.
One night, a full moon watched over me like a mother. In the blue light of the Basin, I saw a petroglyph on a large boulder. It was a spiral. I placed the tip of my finger on the center and began tracing the coil around and around. It spun off the rock. My finger kept circling the land, the lake, the sky. The spiral became larger and larger until it became a halo of stars in the night sky above Stansbury Island. A meteor flashed and as quickly disappeared. The waves continued to hiss and retreat, hiss and retreat.
In the West Desert of the Great Basin, I was not alone.
